Somewhere far off, lightning flashed and split the pewter sky.

He laid his hand over mine, leaning his flushed cheek against my palm. “I could,” he whispered, “if only I could catch you.”

My heart stilled. I withdrew my hand, taking one, two, three steps back into the downpour.

Rain traced my scorched skin, coursed through my hair and down the back of my neck.

You are making a mistake.

We were doomed, but I was smiling.

“Try,” I said, and we were off and running.

31

We chased each other, slipping over stones and moss and catching each other around the waist time and again. I won, and he won, and we both lost, and by the time we got back to the castle, Bear and I were drenched and out of breath and laughing like fools. My neck and wrists and fingers burned everywhere he touched them.

Once inside my room, he tugged his jacket off me and stoked the fire, sending sparks up the chimney. I dragged a chair closer to its flames, teeth chattering as he draped me with dry towels.

Bear knelt and grasped my shaking hands, caked with mud and wet leaves, warming them with his own.

“I would have crossed from Potomac to England,” I whispered, “just for today.”

Guilt pooled in my stomach, sharp and icy. I had not crossed for this. For him. I pushed the truth away.

I knew I was cold. But with his eyes on me, suddenly, I couldn’t feel it.

My fingers curled slowly around his.

A thousand tiny moments.

Yeses and nos that change the world.

There would be a price for this betrayal later. I hoped I could afford it.

And then Bear was kissing me.

I’d never been kissed before, except for by family or friends; pecks on the nose when I was little, parting kisses scrunched against cheeks. Peter had never come nearer my lips than a friendly hug permitted, but even with him, I’d never imagined anything like this—brilliant, glowing, breathless.

Kneeling by my chair, Bear’s other hand grasped my shoulder. Unbidden, my free hand found his burning cheek, fingertips winding their way into the dark hair clinging damply to his temple. He pulled back only a heartbeat later, questions in his eyes.

He was still crouched beside me, our interlocked fingers resting on my knee, when Perrault and Captain Lang walked through the open door.

“There you are!” Lang said, looking relieved. But they both stopped short when they saw Bear. He patted my hand awkwardly and dropped it, rising to his feet.

Perrault blinked, then his eyes narrowed. “I thought you weren’t feeling well.”

I swallowed. “I thought a walk would help.”

“It was brilliant, until the rain drove us home.” Bear dug back into the linen closet and dumped six more towels on my lap.

Sure, I thought wryly. That’ll convince them. Lang’s stare was as heavy as my rain-soaked clothes.